


Exterminate

by thanku4urlove



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, NewS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Bugs & Insects, Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Resurrection, slight body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 15:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20799233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanku4urlove/pseuds/thanku4urlove
Summary: A month after the death of his boyfriend, Masuda Takahisa gets a phone call that could change his life.





	Exterminate

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, this one is a lil gross. Written for a friend's birthday in 2016!

On the tenth of March, Masuda Takahisa didn't want to get out of bed. He hoped that maybe, if he just stayed there, the day wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t have to tidy up his living room, Koyama and Shigeaki wouldn’t come knocking at his door carrying a bottle of some fancy alcohol, an obscure board game, and hesitant smiles. He wouldn’t have to bear the slight, inescapable irony that the topic being awkwardly skirted around was the exact reason that they were here. For the anniversary—as though he needed a get-together to remember.

But time wouldn’t slow down, speed up, or stop, despite how many times he had wished it to, Masuda dragging himself up and into the shower. He should feel at least a little happy to see his friends, two people in the world that he loved very, very much, but smiling had gotten just about as difficult as breathing these days.

It was exactly as he had anticipated it, Shige giving him a tight hug as soon as he opened the door. His fiancé Koyama did the same right after, the plastic bag the tall man was carrying being dropped to the floor in favor of hugging him better. As Masuda hugged back, the fierce affection made something in his chest ache.

Shige poured the three of them white peach sake while Koyama set up—and tried to explain—the card game he had brought. By the end of an hour and a half, Masuda had somehow won, though he didn’t understand how, Shige downing the rest of his drink and setting the glass slowly on its coaster.

“So… How are you?”

Masuda didn’t know how to answer. The same as he had been over the past twenty-nine days. With everything so hazed and blended together, it was hard to believe that it had been that long.

“Have you gone back to work?”

That was an easier question, Masuda shaking his head. “I’m alright for… another week or so.” He didn’t want to see all the muted, discomforted, sympathetic expressions from his coworkers, unsure if he would be able to bear them.

“Are you going to be okay, on the money front? He did have a higher paying job than you.”

“My manager has talked a little about promoting me in the past, so I think so.” Masuda hadn’t really even thought of how money was going to be; it seemed so ridiculously trivial. “I could always move. Get a smaller apartment, or something.”

Koyama’s expression went very sad then, suddenly watery and fragile. Masuda emptied his glass of sake as well, excusing himself under the guise of getting water, extending the offer to his guests. He was waved away by both of them, slipping into the kitchen. He heard Shige’s hushed tone just as he was about to reenter the room, stilling on the spot.

“Koyama, I know, but we can’t leave him like this. I think he’s depressed.”

“Of course he is.” Koyama took a drink. “It’s only been a month since Tegoshi died. They’d been together for so long—how is he supposed to feel?”

“Yes, but… He hasn’t gone back to work, he barely leaves the house, he hasn’t smiled since we’ve been here—“

Masuda let the ice in his cup clink against the glass, announcing his presence as he stepped back to his seat. Shige quieted immediately, Koyama looking sheepish. Masuda was going to pretend he hadn’t heard, but that expression let on that they knew he had, so he sighed instead.

“Yes, I’m sad.” He told them. “I’m sad when I don’t think about it. I’m sad when I do.” He and Tegoshi had been together for three years, in love for three years, before the younger man was taken from him in a brutal six car pile-up exactly a month ago. Masuda remembered the gut-wrenching horror like it was yesterday, having just finished making dinner, sitting down to watch the news and recognizing one of the cars that was smashed to bits in the background of the live report. The phone hadn’t even rang when Masuda tried to call, going straight to voicemail, the blood running cold in his veins as he already suspected the worst. “It hasn’t gone away.”

“These things don’t.” Shige said. “But we’re here for you, alright? Everyone is here for you.”

Masuda couldn’t respond to that, letting a very emotional Koyama scoot across the floor and wrap an arm around his shoulders. They eventually moved to the couch, watching some movie that Masuda was barely able to pay attention to until Shige declared that they had to go home, another round of hugs being coupled with requests to text and call at any time, and his friends were out the door.

Masuda simply sat there, left in his empty, quiet apartment. He picked his cell phone up, knowing the device was dead in his hand—he hadn’t charged it the night before, wary of the messages and Facebook notifications he was doubtlessly going to receive—figuring he should finally charge it and face them when the device vibrated.

He jumped, dropping his phone to the floor. It landed face up on the rug, the lit screen staring imploringly back at him.

_ Incoming Call: _ _Restricted Number_

The number wasn't listed, and while that was strange, it was even stranger that his phone was ringing at all. The battery was dead; it shouldn't be making any noise and yet it was, Masuda reaching down hesitantly to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Masuda Takahisa?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I'm interested in making you a deal."

"Who are you?"

He didn't recognize the voice, deep and slow, with none of the usual pep and persuasion that telemarketers came with.

"You have recently lost someone very close to you, haven't you?"

Masuda froze, his breath stilling in his chest. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. This level of bluntness about Tegoshi had been avoided the entire day until now.

"How... Who are you?"

"I can bring him back to you."

Masuda immediately felt sick, sick at the idiotic hope that had churned in his stomach at the statement.

"No you can't." His voice was much weaker, much shakier than he intended it to be and he stopped to swallow again. "That's not possible."

"I can reunite you with him forever. However, to make the exchange, you will have to lose something precious to you."

"…why would I take this deal?"

"Because you still love him. Tomorrow morning, anticipate a visitor. When that day is over, I will request your audience again, but with an answer."

The call ended with a click, Masuda left sitting on the couch, the sudden rise in emotions he had been anticipating all day so sudden and unexpected that it left him feeling drained, despite how short the strange conversation had been. His phone was dead again, not reacting when he pressed any of the buttons. He knew what had just happened had to be a trick, the cruelest type of prank call, and he shook his head, pulling himself to his feet.

As soon as the phone was revived it began to buzz, Masuda able to pick out a series of text messages from Nakamaru and a Facebook notification from his mother, tagging him in something. He clicked the lock button, his bare feet cold against the wood floor as he walked mindlessly into his bathroom, the time of day motivating him more than actual exhaustion to brush his teeth and get to bed.

_Tomorrow morning, expect a visitor._

What kind of visitor would it be? The strange man on the phone, with the deep voice? Some sort of business man, trying to prey on his tragedy to sell him something?

_Yuya?_

He shook his head at that. Tegoshi was dead. He’d seen it; he’d helped identify the body, the burnt, broken body, holding his boyfriend’s mother close to his chest as the woman turned away. He was going to pretend he was out for the day, keeping his door locked and unanswered, determined not to answer the stranger’s phone call again.

“You always held on to me so tightly at night. It made it so hard to get out of bed without waking you.”

The voice was painfully familiar, cutting into his consciousness and forcing his eyes open. There was a body in his arms, so warm and steady and _real_ that if this was still a dream, Masuda never wanted to wake up.

“I’m not complaining though. It always made me feel loved.”

Tegoshi often appeared in his dreams, but each time he did he was angry. He would be upset to tears, throwing things and screaming.

_"It was you who told me to hurry home! You!"_

He wasn’t angry this time though, kissing Masuda’s chest before looking up, his big brown eyes meeting Masuda’s own.

“It always made me feel safe.”

Tegoshi pressed closer, and Masuda couldn’t do anything but look down at him, pain stabbing him in the chest so sharply that it felt physical, and rendered him almost unable to breathe, taking in a few shallow gasps. Tegoshi moved up for a kiss and Masuda jolted away, the back of his head banging against the wall. That definitely hurt, the blunt ache ruining any possibility that this was a dream, and Masuda scrambled out of bed, halfway across the room before he felt safe enough to stop. Tegoshi sat up, disgruntled, confused, and a little hurt.

“Taka-chan? What’s wrong?”

“You’re dead.” The words were less than a whisper, Masuda shaking his head. He would be lying if he hadn’t had some suspended, disbelieving hope that the visitor was Tegoshi, but now that Tegoshi was here in front of him, he was terrified. He had never been afraid of Tegoshi before, and he didn’t like it.

“Not for today.” Tegoshi gave him a hesitant smile, moving slowly as he pushed the sheets off of himself, Masuda recognizing the baggy shirt Tegoshi had on as one of his own as he planted his feet firmly on the rug, standing and opening his arms. Masuda took a few slow steps forward, half of him wary, the other desperately wanting nothing more than to believe what was in front of him. Tegoshi let him approach, unmoving, not breaking eye contact. Masuda wrapped the man up in his arms, taking in the rhythm of his breath, the beating of his heart, the heat of his skin.

“Yuya?”

“I’m here.”

Masuda’s knees went weak, clutching at Tegoshi’s shoulders, the other man the only things keeping him standing.

“I love you so much.”

“I know. I love you too.” Tegoshi’s hands traveled over his back, rubbing warmth into his shirt, into his muscles, Masuda feeling his nose burn, his eyes well up, and he was crying, Tegoshi shushing him.

“No, no, you did enough of that yesterday.” He pulled back, his hands on Masuda’s cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away the wetness under his eyes as he leaned in for a gentle kiss. The kiss was achingly familiar, reinforcing the realization that this was Tegoshi, the real Tegoshi, here with him now.

“How is this happening?”

At that question Tegoshi only smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know, but since I’m here… Are you going to make me some breakfast, or have I been away for so long that you forgot how horrible of a chef I am?”

Masuda let out a choked laugh at that, taking hold of Tegoshi’s hand as they entered the kitchen. Everything felt absurdly normal, as though it was any other Saturday morning, both of them off of work and enjoying their morning together. It was extremely strange and extremely natural at the same time, Masuda slightly unnerved by it all, the strange feeling in his stomach not going away as Tegoshi came up behind him standing at the stove, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck. Unsure of how to respond, Masuda didn’t, but Tegoshi didn’t seem to mind.

“What are we going to do today?” Tegoshi asked once they were finished, across from each other on the couch. It took Masuda a moment to notice the question, too wrapped up in staring at him.

“I… We probably can’t go anywhere.” He said after a moment. “It hasn’t been that long; people would recognize you.”

“Oh, right.” Tegoshi’s face fell. “I guess I should have expected that; being forgotten so easily wouldn’t suit me.”

That statement was just so _Tegoshi_ that Masuda couldn’t help but smile, the younger man taking sighing and continuing.

“I can’t see Shige and Koyama either then. They’re still in love, right? They’re still engaged and everything?”

“Of course they are.” Masuda answered, putting the smile back on Tegoshi’s face.

“That’s good. I can’t believe I’m going to miss their wedding. I can’t believe… I can’t believe I died. It’s so unfair.” His face was becoming increasingly distraught, his hands twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t believe I left you. I can’t believe I’m going to leave you again tomorrow. It’s not… I’m sorry.”

It was nearly a plea for forgiveness, Masuda shaking his head and gesturing, Tegoshi crawling across the couch cushions to get into his lap.

“No. It’s not your fault.” Masuda kissed him, Tegoshi murmuring apologizes against his lips, against his skin. “It’s not your fault.”

“…look at us.” Tegoshi said after silence had settled, his chuckle sounding slightly watery. “We’re a mess.”

Masuda had to laugh back, giving Tegoshi a tight squeeze before releasing him, letting him lean against the back of the couch.

“Isn’t today supposed to be happy?” Tegoshi asked, glancing over at him. “We should do something happy. Something normal. What did we usually do on Saturdays?”

“We…” Masuda shrugged. “We didn’t do anything on Saturdays. Neither of us had work, so… We would try to stay in our pajamas all day.”

“Well, it’s past noon, so we’re almost there.” Tegoshi plucked at the loose t-shirt he had on. “What else do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to waste today.” Masuda confessed. He didn’t want the day that he desperately needed to last forever to pass him by.

“Stepping outside the house is glamorous and all,“ Tegoshi glanced over at him, a smile gracing his face as he did so. “But it’s probably not as good as doing nothing with you. Come here.”

He beckoned and Masuda complied, the couch being where they stayed for the next few hours, not moving much except further into each other's arms. Feeling Tegoshi's body next to him, hearing him murmur and sigh, was something Masuda never thought he would experience again, and he realized while sitting there that he would not survive losing Tegoshi a second time.

"Taka-chan?" Tegoshi asked gently, his breath warm against his neck.

"Hm?"

"Can we have some dinner now?"

The sun had set half an hour ago, and now that food was mentioned, he realized he was hungry.

"Definitely." He responded, pulling Tegoshi to his feet. Tegoshi helped making dinner this time, which was always more fun, and more dangerous. Masuda made sure to take care of using the large knives, hoping that they were in the clear, but then Tegoshi accidentally flambéed the vegetables, and he had to check to make sure his eyebrows were still there, making Tegoshi laugh.

Dinner was just like every other dinner together, and it made him incredibly happy, doing nothing but cementing the decision he had already subconsciously made. This time though, he admitted it to himself, admitted what it was he was going to do. What he was willing to do. Sacrificing something—anything—for Tegoshi Yuya.

By the time night fell and they were getting ready for bed, Tegoshi’s mood dampened again. He tried not to show it, but Masuda knew him too well at that point, giving reassuring kisses that it would not be the last time they saw each other, and falling asleep with him in his arms.

The bed was empty when he woke and he instantly hated it, clutching at his phone all morning. He was anxious the entire time, the small doubt creeping into his mind of not getting called back. Thankfully, he wasn’t forced to wait too long, in the middle of pacing when his phone began to vibrate.

“Tegoshi.” He said as soon as he picked up. “I choose Tegoshi Yuya.”

“Very well.” The voice answered. “He will be with you tomorrow.”

The call disconnected. Masuda let out a long breath, sitting on the couch. That had been easier than he expected. Faster than he expected. The longer he thought about it, the more it sunk in; Tegoshi was coming back. _Life_ was coming back. He had lost a month of it, but that time would doubtlessly be made up for, able to push the last four weeks of time away as nothing but a long nightmare. He was finally waking up.

When Tegoshi died it had been instantaneous, the force of the other car's impact jerking his head forward and back, snapping bones and joints. Shige's airbags and seatbelt had tried more desperately to keep him alive, letting him lay in a hospital bed for nearly an hour before he flat lined. It was a whole three hours after that when Masuda got the phone call, Koyama's voice sore and pale.

"What's wrong?"

"It... It's Shige, he... He's..."

The part of the deal that Masuda had been too doused in elation to think about flooded back, the realization crashing into his body, weakening him and making him feel sick.

"He's dead?"

There was a small whimper of confirmation in response, Masuda's stomach twisting as he closed his eyes. This was his fault; the tear tracks down his friend's face were his fault, the covered hospital bed was his fault, apologies the first thing from his mouth as soon as he got to the hospital.

"Why... Why is it us?" The night after Shige's funeral found the two of them at a bar, Koyama nearly through his third beer. The ceremony had been fine, very emotional, full of coworkers Masuda didn't know. Masuda hadn't been able to cry, already worn of tears; he had cried twice in the hospital, and a third time on Tegoshi's shoulder the morning the man had arrived. It wasn't how he had wanted the reunion to be, more bittersweet than celebratory, and though Tegoshi didn't understand truly what had happened, he was still overjoyed, still held him, and still cried too. The decision to not let him go to the funeral had been a difficult one, but it was for the best. Koyama couldn't know.

“The wedding was going to be in two months. Two months.” Koyama sighed, throwing his head back and downing the rest of his drink. “I know this is a dumb thing to think about right now, but I realized earlier that I’m going to have to call everyone, and cancel everything. That’s going to be horrible.”

Masuda didn’t know what to say except that he was sorry, something he had been repeating for days. Usually Koyama accepted the condolences, but this time he shook his head.

“No, you’ve been through this too. You’ve felt this too.” He motioned the bartender for another drink, taking a long drag as soon as his glass was in his hands. “Maybe I won’t cancel the honeymoon, and take a photograph of him with me. Since he loved to travel.” Koyama’s expression scrunched up, putting his face in his hands. “What have we done in the universe to make love not love us back?”

“Maybe he’s not gone forever.” Masuda responded hesitantly. “Maybe you’ll see him again.”

If Koyama hadn’t been as drunk as he was, the statements would doubtlessly have been perceived as strange, but instead of asking questions he just shook his head.

“Thinking like that isn’t safe. It isn’t healthy.” He glanced over at Masuda, at the still-full glass of water on the counter in front of him. “You’re not thinking like that, are you? Waiting for something that won’t happen?” He sat up a little straighter, taking another drink. “Is that why you haven’t gone back to work?”

“No.” Masuda said quickly. “Though, I am going to move soon. I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”

He had begun researching apartments as soon as he had gotten off the phone, looking for listings all the way across the country. Koyama’s face fell, but he nodded.

“Stay my best friend, please.”

_I don’t deserve to._

“Okay.”

It took two days for Masuda to pack up and say his goodbyes, all of their boxes moved into the new apartment by the end of the week. It was like a breath of fresh air, seeing the empty space, the fresh start, Tegoshi dancing through the open living room and landing in his arms, promising to stay with him forever.

Masuda was woken up by Tegoshi singing in the shower. Going back to sleep would be impossible after that he knew, because Tegoshi never tried to tackle average pop songs when he sang, instead belting out opera “classics” that Masuda was always a little convinced he was completely making up. He didn't want to go to sleep anyway, listening to the muffled tones and the water, unable not to smile. It was all just so _normal_. It was the same morning as every other morning; Tegoshi getting up before him, waking him unapologetically, and reemerging with still-dripping hair and a towel around his waist.

"Do you think my hair is going to fall out?" Was the first thing out of Tegoshi's mouth when he came back into the room, shaking his head, droplets hitting Masuda and making him protest.

"Good morning to you too." Masuda answered, Tegoshi just grinning back. "Why do you ask?"

"I don’t know. Am I just going to age normally now? I mean... Am I just not dead anymore? Easy as that?"

"That's what I thought." Masuda confessed. "Either way, if your hair does fall out it'll be from all the bleaching you do to it, not anything else."

Tegoshi rolled his eyes and threw his towel on Masuda, who managed to catch it.

"You love my hair."

"I love your everything."

Tegoshi just laughed at him again, Masuda getting up to take a shower.

This was their last day before Masuda’s new job started, having been able to easily find a full time swim coaching job at the nearby gym. They did not waste it, Tegoshi confessing that they were being almost too cheesy for him to stand, which for him was saying something. Masuda didn’t mind though; he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help but smile at him, compliment him, kiss him whenever he wanted, because he _could_. He could do that now, do something he had been more than sure was gone forever.

And like that, his life was back. They went out to restaurants, went out to movies, and there was usually some sort of soccer game on the TV. They settled in easier than Masuda expected, but since Tegoshi didn’t have a job, they were able to eat breakfasts together. It was the best, most relaxing way to start the day, until one morning when Masuda saw something dark scuttle rapidly across the floor. He jumped and shouted, spilling his coffee all down his front.

“Masuda?” Tegoshi called from the bathroom, emerging with a brush in his hand. “Are you okay?”

Masuda didn’t want to move, extending a hand to point to the floor. It was an insect, a two inch long cockroach, simply stopped on a kitchen tile a foot away. Tegoshi gave him a mocking sympathetic expression, taking a step forward. His approach made the bug move a little, Masuda unable not to shiver.

“Don’t scare it.”

“The only thing scared here is you.” Tegoshi said with a little laugh, exiting the room to get a shoe. When he reappeared the creature seemed to know what was happening, running across the floor, Masuda letting out embarrassing noises until Tegoshi crushed it with a sandal.

“Where would you be without me?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Tegoshi frowned a little, raising an eyebrow.

“Come here.” He said, stepping forward and opening his arms, holding him tightly, pressing quick kisses to his neck. “That’s over now, alright?”

Masuda nodded and Tegoshi smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.

“I’m here. We’re here together.”

Unfortunately, their cockroach problem only got worse. It wasn’t constant by any means, their apartment bug free more often than not, but there were enough of them crawling around for Masuda to get enough practice crushing a few on his own. Tegoshi wasn’t having it, insisting they talk to the landlord, but when they did the man didn’t know anything, saying Masuda was the first of his residents to complain of bugs in that apartment and the only residents to complain in the entire building, recommending they call an exterminator.

Masuda tried to find their point of entrance on his own that weekend, armed with a tennis shoe and a bucket. Tegoshi laughed at him the entire time, the only “help” he gave coming in the form of putting Masuda’s bucket on his head. Madusa left it there though, and while the conquest was unsuccessful, Tegoshi was smiling, laughing at him, Masuda feeling the guilt he had harbored over what he had done to get to this point fading away.

Though he was more or less over the bugs, he couldn’t help but jump when one surprised him in the kitchen the following Monday morning, lurching and pointing.

“Yuya, there’s—“

Tegoshi let out an angry shout, not even looking over as he grabbed his coffee mug and threw it to the floor. The liquid splattered across the floor, the ceramic cracking with a loud, sharp sound, shards flying across the kitchen. The mug had met its mark perfectly, the beetle nothing but a tiny mass of yellow viscera on the tile floor. Masuda simply stood there, feeling unable to do anything else as Tegoshi stormed from the kitchen and into the bedroom, slamming the door.

Slowly he picked the ceramic pieces up, wiping up and throwing out the crushed exoskeleton, and vacuuming the kitchen floor before leaving for work. Tegoshi never reemerged, and the outburst left a strange feeling in Masuda’s stomach, making him unable to focus on anything else that day. He made sure to call an exterminator during a break at work, the man saying he could be there as early as tomorrow.

Masuda’s stomach twisted tighter when he walked through the front door, unsure of what to expect. He was met with an armful of Tegoshi, his boyfriend smiling brightly at him, his bangs put up in a small ponytail, a pink apron on over his clothes.

“I… What?”

Tegoshi beamed, kissing him before drawing back.  
“Can we make dinner together? I already have a recipe picked out.”

Nothing but perplexed, Masuda nodded, letting himself get dragged into the kitchen. After Tegoshi assuring him four times that he would be alright cutting the vegetables, they got started.

“About how I acted… I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s…” Masuda was still confused, increasing the heat under the pot on the stove. He was about to say “It’s okay”, but he realized it wasn’t—it had scared him, and had bothered him all day. He wanted an explanation from Tegoshi, and an apology. “I called an exterminator while I was at work. He should be here tomorrow.”

“Oh, good.” Tegoshi sighed. “I just thought this would be it, you know? And we’re running into all of…” Tegoshi gestured vaguely, the knife in his hand waving carelessly through the air. “I don’t know. Bugs.”

Masuda nodded back. He understood, he did, but it wasn’t the apology he needed, realizing that probably wasn’t going to get it. Tegoshi let the knife fall back to the cutting board, letting out a sharp curse and bringing the index finger of his left hand up to his lips. He rushed to the sink, putting the knife in and turning the water on immediately.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“I just… I cut myself.” Tegoshi murmured. “I’ll get a bandaid.”

“Let me see.” Masuda asked, concerned, reaching towards Tegoshi’s hand. Tegoshi just held his hand closer to his body, shaking his head a little.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get a bandaid.”

Masuda frowned, watching him hurry off. The knife was already rinsed off, and the cutting board didn’t have any blood on it either, just a few chopped up carrots and a small speck of some black liquid. Masuda frowned, touching it, the substance thick and smelling of metal. Tegoshi was back as suddenly as he had gone, a smile on his face, his reappearance making Masuda jump. Tegoshi chuckled at him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Masuda wiped his finger on his jeans as discreetly as he could, Tegoshi going back to cutting the vegetables as though nothing had happened, a pink bandaid on his finger. Masuda tried to ask again about the injury but Tegoshi waved him away, repeating again that he was fine and giving him a wink.

The next morning, Masuda’s phone woke him up. He squinted at the screen for a good thirty seconds as his ringtone played before realizing who it was that was calling him. He took a breath before answering, putting the phone to his ear.

“Hi.”

“Hey Masuda. How are you? It’s been a while.”

Guilt--guilt that he had, for the most part, been able to shake off--fell into his stomach like a bag of rocks. He had meant to call Koyama for a few weeks now, the thought sitting somewhere in the back of his mind, making it easily forgotten.

“I’ve been good, actually. How are you?”

“I’m…” Koyama trailed off, Masuda letting his eyes close. He almost didn’t want to hear the answer. “I moved back in with my mother. I couldn’t stay in the empty apartment; I have no idea how you did it for so long. I hated it.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of why I moved.” Masuda lied. “It’s helped a lot.”

“Masuda! There’s one in the shower!” Tegoshi shouted from the bathroom. Masuda winced; Koyama had to have heard that. There was a moment of silence, Masuda holding his breath.

“How long did it take before you could get a full night of sleep?” Koyama finally asked. “I’ve been trying. I managed it once… But I think it was because I took cold medicine. That stuff that is supposed to make you drowsy.”

"Don’t take cold medicine if you don’t have a cold.” Masuda said, frowing. “It’ll happen. You’re eating, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t. My mom has been helping with that.” Koyama admitted. “I’m just… You were right, with that thing you said about being sad. Except I’m lonely, too. I don’t blame you, but… Why did you have to move so far away?”

“I’m sorry.” Tegoshi walked into the room, one towel around his waist and another draped over his shoulders. Masuda put a finger to his lips, signaling for him to be quiet and Tegoshi pursed his lips, his eyebrows going up.

“I don’t want you to apologize.” Koyama countered, his own voice taking on an apologetic tone that Masuda hated. “I just miss you.”

“I’ll visit you.” Masuda couldn’t help himself, seeing Tegoshi’s questioning glance from the other where he was standing in front of the dresser. His actions were deeming him unable to be called Koyama’s friend, and he knew if he didn’t at least say that, he would regret it. “I promise.”

“Thank you.” The words came out like a sigh, and Masuda could feel the conversation ending. “I need to go; I just wanted to check in.”

“It was good to hear from you.” Masuda responded, letting out a breath. “It won’t be as long between calls next time, okay?”

“Yeah. Goodbye.”

Koyama hung up, Masuda putting his face in his hands as soon as he put the phone down.

“Who was that?” Tegoshi asked, sitting down on the mattress next to him.

“Koyama. I kept forgetting to call him. He’s not doing well.”

Tegoshi just frowned, getting to his feet and kissing the top of Masuda’s head.

“You’d better get dressed---the exterminator is going to be here soon.”

Masuda nodded, saying he would. He had completely forgotten about the appointment he had made, the idea of finally having the bugs out of their apartment lifting him up a little bit.

Unfortunately, the exterminator was of no help.

“I don’t know what to tell you, honestly. I killed a few of the insects I found inside, but your apartment is airtight otherwise. Unless you’ve been accidentally leaving open doors or windows, there’s no way that any bugs can get in.”

Tegoshi sent Masuda a pointed look, but he shook his head. He’d been checking thoroughly, making sure there was no way anything could get in, and as far as he’d known he had succeeded. The man shrugged and apologized, doing another round of the apartment to check before thanking them and leaving.

“Well.” Tegoshi sighed, falling heavily on the couch. Masuda sat down next to him, pulling his boyfriend’s head to rest on his shoulder.

“Hey, this is good!” He said, Tegoshi glancing up with a smile. “Now we just need to keep the door closed, and we’ll be fine.”

“I guess you’re right.” Tegoshi answered, straightening up. “What do you want to do today? In our nice, cockroach free apartment?”

They ended up doing a good deal of not much, simply watching a movie on the couch, but it was more than perfect. This is what Masuda had wanted—comfortable, close, and together, with a happy Tegoshi curled into his side. This was the starting over he wanted to have upon moving, and he couldn’t help but feel that this time it was the real thing.

His dreams that night weren’t as pleasant though, his eyes opening to the creeping feeling of beetles crawling across his skin. He didn’t see any when he looked around blearily, feeling as though he was still half awake, or not awake at all. Tegoshi had rolled away from him in the night, his bare shoulder and back exposed, most of the comforter curled around him.

Masuda reached around, wanting at least a bit of the blanket back. His retracted fast to cover his mouth in a silent horror when he had leaned far enough to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend’s face.

Tegoshi’s skin, quite literally, was _crawling._ Bumps were moving just underneath the fleshy surface, especially erratic under his eyelids, his pink lips parted slightly. His left eyelid lifted slightly, one of the lumps surfacing from his eye socket, and in succession three black beetles came crawling through his eyelashes and down his cheekbone, the smallest bit of the white of Tegoshi’s eye peeking out from under their rapid legs. In the moonlight streaming through their window Masuda was able to see two thin, brown antenna poking out from between Tegoshi’s lips, swaying leisurely, the head, then body, then end of a cockroach slowly scuttling from his mouth. A smaller roach came from his right nostril, crawling quickly across the bedsheet, and Masuda couldn’t look anymore, lying flat on his back.

It was a dream. It had to be a dream, reasoning it out as he closed his eyes and tried to breathe again. The two things he had been unable to stop thinking about, Tegoshi and their insect infestation, combining into a nightmare. A nightmare, making him see a brown-shelled bug coming out from Tegoshi’s ear.

That reasoning was only strengthened the next time he opened his eyes to warm, soft lips against his cheek. Tegoshi smiled when he realized he was awake, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too.” Masuda felt uneasy for some reason, the remnants of the dream he’d had in the middle of the night sticking with him. Tegoshi noticed it and frowned, kissing him again.

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing.” The last thing he wanted was Tegoshi worrying about him. He didn’t even want to worry about it, or think about it anymore, pulling his boyfriend closer to him. Tegoshi giggled, climbing up into his lap.

“Good morning.” He repeated, smiling even wider as he leaned down to kiss Masuda’s neck. They eventually made it into the kitchen for breakfast, and as it turned out, the exterminator had been wrong. About four minutes into getting coffee made, Tegoshi had already crushed a beetle with one of Masuda’s tennis shoes. Masuda found that it didn’t bother him though, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. If a cockroach or two was the price he had to pay for having Tegoshi with him, then it was more than worth it. Tegoshi was worth anything.

Though he did give a few grumbles about the exterminator's incompetence, Tegoshi didn’t have any more emotional outbursts. He smiled more and gave kisses more, even taking the time in the morning to wake him before taking a shower. Sometimes it was unintentional, making a little too much noise while digging through the dresser, but Masuda didn’t mind--he liked having Tegoshi be the first thing he saw in the morning.

“We have a whole lazy weekend ahead of us.” Masuda said, pulling himself into a sitting position. Tegoshi gave a contented hum, a towel already around his neck as he bent down to pepper Masuda’s face with kisses.

“Do you think you want to go make some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks babe.” Tegoshi kicked his pants off, tossing them on to the bed behind himself and throwing back a wink as he disappeared into the bathroom. Masuda had to smile and shake his head, getting up a few moments later and padding into the kitchen. He didn’t really know what to make, wandering around the kitchen for a while before deciding against anything too intricate. He had sausage, eggs, and bagels out on the table, the serrated knife he used to cut the bread still in his hand as he peeked his head into the bathroom.

“Yuya?”

Tegoshi had one towel around his waist, another one drying his hair. He didn’t react to his name being called, Masuda assuming he hadn’t heard. He almost called out again, his breath catching in his throat as Tegoshi lowered the towel from his head, letting it hang around his neck and examining his face in the mirror.

It was a reflection that had been dead for months. His eyelids were puffed closed, his lips bloated grotesquely from decay, bloody froth dried down the corners of his mouth. Tegoshi parted his lips, pretty and pink, and in the mirror a dark, discolored tongue protruded slightly, poking out past his teeth. The skin was a disgusting mess of colors, a sickening array of greens and yellows, dark splotches running down his neck and up to his hairline, where brittle, dry hair looked about to fall out.

Masuda must have made some sort of a noise, because Tegoshi was alerted of his presence, turning with a smile, his face as perfect and living and _normal_ as always.

“What is it?” He gave him a small frown of worry, Masuda’s eyes flicking back to the mirror. The reflected body was facing him but the head wasn’t, the eyes slowly opening to reveal empty, gaping sockets.

Masuda needed to say something, he knew, but his mind was full of nothing but disbelief and blank terror. He was suddenly aware of the serrated knife in his hand, his grip tightening on the handle. Tegoshi’s eyes caught the motion, his face immediately going from concern to a resignation that was almost annoyed.

“Damn it.”

Masuda raised the knife up so that it was level with his chest, his mouth going dry.

“You’re not Tegoshi.”

“What are you talking about?” The question was light, a smiling lilt in his tone. “Of course I am.”

Masuda shook his head quickly, taking a step back as Tegoshi took two steps forward. His stomach was twisting; he felt cold, and sick, and wishing desperately that this was a dream.

“No.”

Tegoshi’s smile fell, Masuda jolting back and looking again at the mirror, watching the bloated lips move as he spoke.

“I’m fucking _dead_. What did you expect?”

Tegoshi lunged at him and Masuda moved on reflex, his free hand and both of Tegoshi’s all going for the knife. Tegoshi snarled, the sound nearly feral, teeth bared. Masuda felt barely able to breathe, his heart in his throat, his lungs choked for air as struggled to get Tegoshi off him. He pushed blindly with all his might, fueled by fear and panic, stumbling to the ground. The shove worked, Tegoshi gasping and lurching back, Masuda’s eyes going wide as he saw that the knife was now out of his hands, embedded nearly hilt deep into Tegoshi’s chest.

Tegoshi leaned heavily against the bathroom counter, gradually pulling himself back to standing as he looked down at the knife. Then he reached down, pulling it out slowly, the metal notches reappearing one by one, the blade coated in a substance too dark to be blood, thick and tar-like and dripping onto the rug. Masuda tore his eyes from the knife and looked up at Tegoshi, the man taking a few haggard steps towards him, one hand on the wound on his chest, the liquid oozing slowly between his fingers and down into the towel, as black as ink.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” The blade fell from his fingers, landing carelessly on the rug as he walked forward, coming to a stop in front of Masuda. Tegoshi brushed his wet bangs from his face, locking eyes with Masuda, and Masuda could felt nothing but raw, gut-wrenching fear. Every muscle in his body was frozen, unable to move as Tegoshi reached down, the warm, black substance smearing across his cheek as Tegoshi gripped his chin in his hand. “And I promised to stay with you forever.”


End file.
